Sunday, December 12, 2010


Last night I began what I now anticipate will be a series of thoughts about my college experience; a memoir, if you will, documenting lessons learned, important facts, dos and don'ts, etc. If you're interested in reading my first installment, you can check it out here.

Along the same lines as my last post, I thought I would talk a little bit about what townhouse living was like. First of all, I will take this opportunity to encourage any readers who have not yet attended college to make the most of living on campus. I lived on NC State's campus for 2 years and am so thankful that I did. Skipping out on campus life is missing out on part of the college experience. With that said, living in a townhouse/apartment/house rocks.

Last year I experienced a lot of new things as I learned how to live "on my own" with three other girls.

I learned that chores are not going to get done unless someone makes a chore chart, and even then, all of the chores probably won't get done.

I learned that drinking water while someone squeezes your head between their hands cures hiccups.

I learned that sometimes roofs leak, sometimes water heaters leak, and sometimes even light fixtures leak. I learned that when stuff leaks, it pays to have a housemate who isn't afraid to call the property manager and repeat, "This is unacceptable," until someone comes to fix it.

I learned that when you do call someone to fix something in your house, it is important to find out what time that someone will be arriving, because sometimes people who are trying to fix your house have keys to it and can just let themselves in even if it's only 8:00am and you're still asleep in bed.

I learned to use the chain on my door.

I learned that if you have enough roaches in your kitchen, you get used to them.

I learned that when you live with people, they find out, so it's probably best to just tell them.

One of the biggest things I learned from my housemates on good ol' Octavia Street, though, was the idea of grace. My roommate freshman and sophomore year showed me a lot of grace as I bombarded her with what I can only imagine was insufferable neat-freakness, but last year my housemates showed me a different kind of grace.

For reasons I need not expound upon, last year I did not deserve a whole lot of patience or grace. I was so prideful, I didn't realize that I deserved a good slap in the face until several months later. Nonetheless, my housemates were so loving to me. They were kind when I deserved the cold shoulder, they were friendly when I didn't act as a friend should. I am so grateful for their compassion toward me as I sorted through the mess that was in my heart. I remember a day in particular when one of my roommates came home to find me sitting on my floor crying about something that wasn't worth crying about. She could have pretended she didn't hear me, walked past my room and gone about her business, but she didn't. Instead, she came into my room and she hugged me. She hugged me even though she knew I had been a jerk. She hugged me even though she knew I didn't deserve it.

I don't remember if I realized it then, but I definitely realize it now—she was showing me Jesus. She lived with me, so she knew my junk, but she loved me through it. She pushed aside whatever thoughts she might have been having about how dumb I was being and offered me comfort. I am so thankful for that.

Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity
and passing over transgression
for the remnant of his inheritance?
He does not retain his anger forever,
because he delights in steadfast love.
He will
again have compassion on us;
he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
into the depths of the sea.
Micah 7:18-19